


One Dance, One Dress

by dearxalchemist



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/pseuds/dearxalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He promises to help her on one condition.</p>
<p>“You have to dance at least once with me tonight.” </p>
<p>Riza throws her head back and laughs. It’s the greatest sound he’s ever heard, if he ever loses his hearing, he prays he never forgets the way she sounds now, carefree and in love, laughing with all of her heart at his request. He would be offended, but it’s hard to when she’s so happy. It doesn’t take him long to smile at her laugh and then his own rumbles low in his chest and joins hers. They laugh together for the few minutes, letting it dissolve away to ease the tension between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Dance, One Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neckwear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/gifts).



Riza’s fingers are coated in gun oil when he comes in. Her hair is piled high in a messy bun and she looks at home in his white button up with her socks pulled up to her calves, boyshorts hidden by the wrinkles of his shirt. He smiles smugly to himself at the sight of her, stretching a hand across the back of her chair and leans over the edge of it. His nose presses against the crown of her head and he inhales the soft scent of warm metal and gun oil, worn leather and something softer under all of that. She smiles at his attention, leaning back into the warmth of him as she shifts the handgun in her fingers, slipping the pin back into place. The metal makes a soft click and she dabs her fingers on the napkin folded on the table. She cleans the grease away and exhales softly as he presses a hand to the back of her neck. 

A hum leaves her lips and he massages his fingertips against the skin there, loosening the muscles and she relaxes into him, “This isn’t getting us ready for the banquet, Colonel.” She teases him softly, her voice is a soft hum against his actions. He keeps up the soft action as she turns her head up to him and he leans over, stooping low to press his lips to her forehead. 

“The banquet should be for you,” He mutters softly against her forehead. Her brown eyes flutter shut and she smiles lazily to him.

“It’s for you, all of your promotion.” 

His promotion is only made possible by her hard work. Riza keeps him safe, keeps him dry, and out of harms way. She watches his back, plays his eyes and ears when he needs her most. She is unyielding in loyalty and he loves her unconditionally. Only the military doesn’t know how he feels. The anti-fraternization laws prohibit what they have. So for now he settles for using the spare key under her potted plant, letting himself into her home all while slowly but surely leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a few of his shirts hanging in her closet, a drawer under hers in the bedroom. Not to mention his spare toothbrush flirts with hers in the bathroom. It’s all little things, but big leaps in their relationship.

“I wouldn’t have it if it wasn’t for you.” He skims his lips lower and presses a kiss to each of her eyes gently before slipping his lips down the bridge of her nose and then claiming her lips. She is a soft warm smile pressed against his lips, she kisses him back with a hint of urgency and then pulls back from him slowly, lowering herself back in her seat. He pulls back from her and smooths one of his hands up, gently tucking in a spare strand of her rebellious hair, “Besides, you don’t look ready for the banquet.”

“That’s because I need help with the dress.” She says it quietly, but he smiles a little wider at the idea of her in a dress, even more so at the idea that he gets to help her into the dress. He smooths a hand through his hair and moves to shrug off his dress coat for the evening. 

“Show me this dress then, I’m certain I can conquer it.” Roy sends her a devilishly charming smile and she rolls her eyes, setting the gun back down into her holster and picking up the leather straps on the table. Dress or no dress, she would be armed tonight. It was a trait he found both clever and endearing. She led him down the hall, Hayate snoozing away in his dog bed in the living room while she moved onto the bedroom. Roy lingered back a few steps, enjoying the view of her leaving him behind. His white shirt clung to her form, dropped just below the curve of her rear, her black boyshorts flirting with him with every step she took. His throat tightened at the sight of her, she moved into the bedroom and flipped on the light, heading right for the closet door where a black bag hung. 

“I would ask you not to look but, that would defeat the purpose.” She murmured softly hauling the black bag off of the closet and moving to the bed. She laid it down, smoothing her palms over the bag before she tugged the zipper down slowly.

“I would close my eyes, but I don’t want to miss any more of you than I already have.” 

She cuts him a look. They both know not long ago he lost his sight. It had been temporary but he spoke very seriously now about taking in the world around him. Her fingers paused on the bag and she finally pulled the red dress free. 

“I would be your eyes.” She murmurs softly and he knows it's the truth but right now he’s too caught up in the sight of her holding up the red dress. It’s a bright red, brighter than the rose that’s pinned to his collar. It’s also long and he expects there’s a slit that will slide up her leg, exposing just enough skin for her to reach the gun she’ll no doubt have hidden away. 

“I’ll help you on one condition.” He gestures to the dress, stepping further into the inner sanctum of her bedroom. He’s been in here countless nights and mornings, rolled in her sheets, lost himself in the feel of her, but he’s never helped her in such an intimate way before. 

“Oh?” She looks over at him as she pulls the dress from the hanger, slowly moving to unbutton his borrowed shirt.

“You have to dance at least once with me tonight.” 

Riza throws her head back and laughs. It’s the greatest sound he’s ever heard, if he ever loses his hearing, he prays he never forgets the way she sounds now, carefree and in love, laughing with all of her heart at his request. He would be offended, but it’s hard to when she’s so happy. It doesn’t take him long to smile at her laugh and then his own rumbles low in his chest and joins hers.

**\--------**

“You promised me one dance.”

The front door to her home swings shut with a final click of the lock and he is pouting. His lips are pressed together, arms are crossed and his nose wrinkles. Colonel Mustang is pouting and is visible in the low light of the dark house. Riza tries to hold off her smile, waving a hand in front of his face with a soft flick of her wrist, as if she can wipe the expression away from his face. 

“It’s not my fault you got caught on stage. What was I supposed to do? Climb up there and get you? Besides, everyone was watching you the whole time. It was your ceremony after all Colonel. I wasn’t about to expose the both of us for a simple dance.”

“One dance wouldn’t have hurt. Besides, you danced with Havok and even Elric, how could you dance with the little pipsqueak and not me?” He sounds like a child who had to share his favorite toy for the evening, his voice even breaks a little when he mentions Fullmetal’s name and it makes her shake her head with just the slightest motion. 

“One dance would have to turned into two then three, then who knows how many.” Riza sighs softly and he moves forward, helping her pull off the expensive earrings. He carefully unhooks them with his gloved fingers and then presses them into her palm softly. He's caught up in the weight of her earrings while she tugs the ridiculously tall heels off of her feet. Riza hums in a soft victory as her bare feet press over the cool hardwood floors. They’ve both had enough alcohol for the night, the ceremony was free flowing with good drinks and it shows in the flush along both of their faces. 

“That is true,” He murmurs wearily, because it is true. He would dance with her until morning came, especially in that red dress. Only he couldn’t let the world see what he wanted, not now at least. Not until he made it to the top. She sighs and it draws him back into reality, her fingers move up and grasp at his face gently, she pulls him down and presses her lips into his. They kiss in the darkness of her living room. Then she pulls back and leads him back to the bedroom with slow measured steps that he can’t fight. It isn’t until he’s in her room that he realizes she’s left him to fiddle with the radio. 

Static fills the room and then she finds a station. The music is soft and slow, terrible music really. He wants something with a beat, something with swing so he can twirl her around in that red dress, make everyone in the room envious of the two of them. For now though, he settles on the soft and slow music, settles for the way her hips sway against his own as she takes his hand and slides her other one up along the lapel of his dress uniform.

“How’s this?” She asks softly and he smiles at her makeshift dance floor. They haven’t bothered to turn on any lights, but the moon is full and streaks through the window, illuminating the room with a soft glow. 

“It's too good for me,” Roy feels a swell of something stronger than pride at the way she looks at him. It's love in a pure unfiltered form washing over him. She's too good for him and he knows it, she knows it. His gloved hands start out on her waist and then he draws one up the side of her form, taking in the soft feel of the dress. It's a smooth red satin that makes his eyes drift to all the right curves as they dance. It's a slow dance that makes him lean in closer. His nose brushes her forehead and she lays her head in his chest. They turn and turn along the bedroom in an agonizing pace. The palm of his hand smooths up the side of her dress and he hooks a gloved hand under her chin, guiding her upwards for a moment, “Riza, please.”

Her lips part with an answer but she doesn't say anything. Instead she surges up on to the tips of her toes and sears her lips to his. This isn't their first kiss but it's the first time she's left him utterly breathless in the middle of a dance. Her lips are warm and plush, her tongue swipes along his bottom lip and he's a goner. Riza has him by the lapels of his jacket, his medals pinned to his chest clink together and he grins against her mouth. The flame alchemist draws her in closer, tightens his hold on her and then they break apart. Soft pants fill the room and he grips onto her hand carefully with his own and spins her with the music. He turns her until her back is to him and he draws her back in. Her back is pressed to his chest and she sways still to the music. He takes his gloves off in front of her, letting his fingers smooth over the soft satin. He marvels in the feel of her poured into such an expensive dress. 

“Come with me,” Roy’s lips touch the shell of her ear and she shivers, shaking her head.

“You come with me.” She grips onto his hands around her hips, pulling him towards the bed. Her knees touch the mattress and he lifts her just enough to push her knees up onto the mattress. His bare hand pressing to her back, pushing her down with a soft promise that they’re not done dancing just yet. 

His calloused fingers are bare now, gloves on the ground, he pulls up the edges of her dress and lets his fingers skate over her skin. He loves the soft feel of her skin under his touch, her muscles jump and he grins, there’s enough alcohol in his system that he takes his time mapping out the smooth plains of her skin. She hums and pushes back into him, her hands are on the bed now, fingers digging into the blankets. He pushes the skirt of the dress further up, letting it bunch up around her hips, exposing those black boyshorts from before. Despite the fancy dress and make-up, she wears practical lingerie. None of it’s fancy and lace, but it’s black on black and practical and very Riza. His thumb slips up and toys with the edge of the elastic. 

“Lieutenant.” He mutters softly and she can feel her face heat up with a faint blush. His thumb plays with the elastic line and she hums softly pushing her hips back even more, he snaps the band of her panties and she jerks forward a bit. Riza tosses him a look over her shoulder and he meets her look with a charming smile, desire burning in his eyes. He pushes her forward, into the mix of moonlight and streetlight that streaks across the bed. His dark gaze follows the curve of her back and he pushes her dress up higher, fingers playing with the expensive fabric. Roy drags his fingers down the expanse of her boyshorts and then down to her exposed flesh. His hands grip at her thighs, fingers digging into the meat of her legs for a moment, spreading her a bit wider, letting her push her hips back up into him. She’s a work of art slowly unraveling in his palms. Her fingers smooth over the blankets on her bed and she pushes her hands down onto the mattress planting herself firmly there as he draws his hands up. He thumbs at the band of her underwear once more, this time hooking it against his fingers and pulled down. He drew the fabric away from her slowly. His hands work slow and steady, setting an agonizing pace as he lifts one of her knees and then the other one to push the fabric the rest of the way down. He slowly pulls it away from her ankles and tosses them to the ground. She moves a hand up to pull at the dress, but he stops her with a disapproving sound.

“Leave it on,” His voice is hoarse and she shivers at his tone and her fingers drop for a moment, shooting him a look once more over her shoulder. In the dark she looks almost angelic, blond hair catching the light with her brown eyes dark and endless. She smells of expensive perfume and hair is loose in long curls that bounce along her shoulders. Her lips are painted red and he can’t wait to drag his lips over hers just to smear it away, “Just a little while longer. Since I didn't get to dance with you then, I'd like to think I can now.” 

She nods and he traces his knuckles up the back of her calves, letting her shift up the mattress, letting him kneel behind her, lips pressing over the red mark in her skin where her panties cut into her. He drags his tongue over the skin, tasting the salt and leaving a wet trail down to the curve of her ass, just below a soft cheek. She shivers and he nips at the skin. He listens to her sigh, her breathing becoming quick and uneven. He drags his knuckles higher and gently draws a line up the back of her thighs, before letting his scorched fingers drag over the soft folds of her slick cunt. A low moan catches in her throat. Riza shudders at the sudden feeling and he finds he’s proud of eliciting such a sound from her. She strokes his ego with every soft sigh, every moan that falls free of those painted lips when he drags his mouth closer and closer. He inches his way to her, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses. She’s slick between the thighs, sticky and sweet against his tongue. The taste of her starts to coat his tongue and makes his mouth water as his hands grip a hold of her hips and he draws her back to the very edge of the mattress. 

Another moan pulls from her throat and Riza’s arms shake. She’s thankful for years of military training, of bootcamp being filled with nothing but numerous push-ups. Her upper arm strength is superior but right now, he’s making a mockery of her. He’s breaking down her defenses, dragging her into a blissful undertow. His teeth scrape along her clit and she loses herself. Her hands spasm against the blanket and she moans loud this time. Enough alcohol is in her system that she doesn’t hold back on her volume. Her golden head bows and she pushes her hips back once more, feeling hot -- feeling on fire. She feels like he’s snapped his fingers and turned the room into an inferno. Her nerves are twisting and tangling, she feels like a star waiting to combust, ready to lose herself in the feel of him. He’s talented, putting his tongue to good use as he dips his tongue in and out, fucking her with his mouth. He moans and the vibration shudders along her nerves. Riza’s hands fail her and she shudders, moaning loudly into the blankets as she crashes down to her elbows, hips in the air, pressing closer to him. Her thighs quiver, muscles jumping against his attentions. He laps at her, cleans up the mess he’s made of her. She’s soaking wet and he’s chasing the trails down her thighs with the tip of his tongue. 

“Roy,” She moans out his name and he smirks against her skin. Listening to his name leave her lips sets fire to his veins. He grins a little wider and kisses at the skin for a moment before pulling away from her. He leans over just enough to press a kiss to the small of her back where he’s pushed the dress so high she looks naked from the waist down. His hands circle around her and pull her back, he presses himself behind her. She’s wet against his dress slacks, and he rocks against her, pressing the hard outline of his cock into the curve of her ass. She hums against him, pushing her hips back to get closer to him. He leans over her, lips pressing to her shoulder, kissing over the edge of the dress before he lets his lips linger along the back of her neck. She smooths her hands over the mattress and moans once more, backing her hips up into his covered ones. 

“Are you sure?” He asks softly nipping along the line of her shoulder, biting at her skin just hard enough to leave a soft red mark, never hard enough to hurt or leave marks. She shivers, skin prickling against his actions and he smirks at the way she responds to him. Her golden head nods to him and then she says a soft plea of his name and it’s all he needs. He slides his hands away from her hips and undoes his belt. Roy yanks it free and tosses it onto the floor with the rest of his clothes and her red shawl. His dress slacks pool around his knees and he can't be bothered to push them the rest of the way off. He's too caught up in the mess of her, in the work of art that is Riza Hawkeye. She pushes back into him, his boxers are all that keeps them separate and he decides then and there that it is too much. He pushes up on his knees and drags the thin fabric of his boxers down his legs, pushing his dress slacks the rest of the way off before leaning into her once more. She radiates heat, her legs shake but she's already begging for him to keep going, they live on borrowed time together. The military keeps them desperate and separate. Now is their time together and Riza doesn't want a second of it wasted. 

He strokes his calloused hands over his cock, once, twice and then pushes himself over her wet folds in a teasing manner that's going to get him shot one day. Another low moan falls from her lips. Her head falls down, forehead pressing onto her folded arms as she makes herself comfortable against him. He fits so well against her, like their bodies were personally carved for one another. He lets his hand slide down her legs and he grips at the muscled thigh for a moment, spreading her legs a little wider for him. Her cheeks flush a vibrant shade of red and everything feels amplified from this position. Her gaze isn't quite able to reach his and her hips are vulnerable, she's exposed. Snipers never like to be exposed but he makes her feel safe and warm, even now as he drags the head of his cock between her legs, teasing her. She's so wet that he doesn't have to tease her for long. A soft sigh drops from his mouth and it sounds like a cross between her name and a prayer as he pushed himself inside. The sudden intrusion has her propelling forward but he pulls gently on her hips, guiding her back into him. They fit like long lost puzzle pieces. Her hips fit square into his own and her cunt accommodates his size, squeezing deliciously around him. 

His hands slide down the shapely sides of her hips and massages the skin there, fingers digging into the flesh. He slips his hand down and smooths his palm over the flat of her stomach. Her muscles are pulled tight and let's his hand slide up over the wrinkled mess of her red dress. His palm smooths over the slope of her breast and he squeezes softly. A moan leaves her lips and she lets her head drop lower, her cheek scrapes along the top of her blankets. Her lips are parted and she's panting, broken versions of his name fall from her lips and he's lost in the feel of her. Lost in the way she fits against him. His arms hook around her and he hauls her up to her knees, letting her back smack against his chest. Her blonde hair is still curled at the ends, tickling his shoulders as she lets her head fall back, her lips find the crook of his neck and a sharp gasp leaves him. Her tongue drags over the sharp cut of his freshly shaven jaw and her hands cover his across her body. She squeezes his wrists, his forearms and begs him to keep going. A death threat leaves her lips the moment his hand sweeps low, fingers planting on the skin of her inner thigh. 

“If you stop, I'll shoot you.” Her voice is a strained plea, breathy and lost in the sound of his skin on hers. He's feverishly warm, sweat slick skin sliding along hers as his hips drive harder and harder into her own. 

Roy smirks at her words. He turns his head down and presses his mouth to her cheek, dragging his lips further down. He nips at the shell of her ear, nibbles at the soft skin that spans down behind her ear to the underside of his jaw. He sinks his teeth into the side of her throat, biting at the skin with a soft suck of his lips. The fingers at her thighs move higher and he drags his calloused fingers over the slick skin, finding her clit. Riza tightens around him and pushes her hips back into his harder, grinding into him. He chases her with his fingers, thumb pressing over her clit. 

Riza shudders against him, golden head falling back to his shoulder as he pushes her over the proverbial edge. She comes hard, thighs shaking with his hands moving to her hips. He grips onto her hips and thrusts back into her, dragging out the last few strokes before he digs his knuckles into her skin. He’ll apologize for the bruises in the morning. He'll kiss the skin with soft lips and start the coffee before she wakes up. He'll take the three am dog walking shift while she sleeps and Hayate whines at the door. There's a lot Roy would do for her, the list is endless and right now he wants to relish in the feel of her still tensing around her. Her muscles spasm and he groans, dropping his forehead to the back of her red dress. 

Her breathing is still heavy and she's slipping boneless to the bed. He slowly pulls out, leaving behind a sticky mess but he doesn't leave just yet. He gently pulls the zipper on the back of her dress and drags it down, pulling it off of her body. She hums softly and rolls on to her back to smile at him lazily in the cut of moonlight that spills over the bed. He hangs her dress back up, loses his clothes and moves to the bathroom with slow measured steps. His muscles are still sore, skin on fire. 

Roy returns to the bedroom with a warm wash cloth and his hand slips around her ankle where he pulls her to the edge of the mattress. A tired laugh bubbles up from her lips and she hums softly as he runs the rag between her legs and over her thighs. He leans over and presses a kiss to her knee, then once more to the soft skin of her stomach. He tosses the rag to the floor, uncaring if it lands on his dress blues or not. 

“Mm, stay please.” Her voice is soft and sleepy. He wants to stay. He wants to stay every night and every morning, every holiday and all the time between. He wants to live out the rest of his short days with her. Roy presses his lips to her sternum. It's a chaste press of his lips as he wraps his arms around her and they roll into a much more comfortable position with her head buried in the crook of his neck. 

“For a little while,” he breathes out the words, exhaustion is etched into his bones. His fingers draw through the snarled mess of hair and then down the curve of her back. Roy draws small circles, counterclockwise until her breathing evens out. He stays until his body warns him that dawn is coming. Her arms are around him and his legs are tangled with hers, he doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to break whatever spell is between them just yet. Riza mutters something softly in her sleep and it makes him smile as she rolls onto her back and lets out a soft snore, burying herself in the heat of him and the blankets. He takes a moment to soak it all in, the feel and look of her so unguarded -- then slips out of bed and dresses for a cab to take him home.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much almost 5k of pure sin requested sorta-ish by the lovely Em who I adore so much it's not even funny. I do hope you all enjoyed our favorite power couple sinning. All mistakes are my own! I'm going to hell, but feel free to join me.


End file.
